Nursery Rhymes
by IndiaMoore
Summary: First crossover so be nice! :) Set in an AU season three, John is coping with the return of his roommate, but what happens when Mycroft reveals that he and Sherlock have a younger brother? And what happens when Moriarty finds out? Read and review IN PROGRESS WEEKLY UPDATES CHAPTER 8 NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and welcome to my first crossover fic! Firstly, to everyone who follows my other stories, I'm so sorry on the wait, but I am getting serious writers block, and every time I go to watch Merlin for inspiration I just cry. So this short story is a way of triggering my creativity and hopefully unclogging my mind. This fic is practically complete, only one more chapter to go, and is going to be 7 chapters long hopefully, with each chapter being just over 1000 words each. I will be updating on Fridays or Saturdays, depending on work and school. Before you begin reading this, you will need some background information. This story is set in an AU Season 3 of Sherlock, two weeks after Sherlock returned to 221B Baker Street and revealed to John he is alive. Unfortunately for Sherlock, John isn't going to let him off so easily. The scene is set, so enjoy reading.**

**P.S. This story will be neither Johnlock or Merthur, but just some awesome bromance. Also, if you get confused by the ages, at the bottom of the first chapter will be a timeline with each characters ages at key points in their lives**

**I will begin updating this story in September, however here is the first chapter as a sort of sneak preview. Read and review! **

**xIndiax**

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**NURSERY RHYMES**

**CHAPTER 1**

Tension had been high between Sherlock and John ever since Sherlock had returned from his supposed demise. John was firmly ignoring Sherlock much to the detective's irritation, as it meant no phone lending, no helping on cases and no conversation between the two of them. This lack of communication was made obvious when Mycroft sent around a car to collect the pair, John sat on the seat opposite to Sherlock, his gaze firmly fixed on the scenery outside the window. Anthea, who was sat next to John, glanced up from her phone and sighed.

"Had a lovers spat have we?"

John's face wrinkled in annoyance, although his gaze did not stray from the window.

"For the record, I am not gay. And if I was gay, which I am not, I would not go out with such an egotistical selfish childish prat like the man sat opposite you."

"Why thank you for the that glowing opinion John, I can see you hold a very high opinion of me," Sherlock muttered, before silence befell the car once again.

But not for long.

John turned to face Sherlock, anger slowly colouring his face a light pink. "Just for the record Sherlock, did you even once consider apologising to me?"

"Apologising implies that I did something wrong John. Did I do something wrong?"

"Did you-" John's fists clenched as he desperately tried not to punch the man in front of him, his arms trembling at the effort. "Did you do something wrong? Well, let me think. Hmmm. How about when you jumped off of a building to kill yourself? What about when you let me believe you were dead for three years? How about when you stormed back into my life, which by the way I had only just rebuilt, expecting everything to be exactly the same as it was when you left, when clearly it isn't!"

Silence fell again, then –

"You're upset with me aren't you?

John finally lost it. "Oh no, I'm not mad at you Sherlock, this is my happy face! Of course I'm angry! You let me suffer for three years, not understanding why you jumped, when all it would take is just one phone call to let me know you were alive and well! Not to mention that when you came back, you just waltzed back in, not caring that you were practically torturing me psychologically! And you're still not sorry are you!"

Sherlock looked shocked at the sudden outburst from his usually mild tempered roommate. Said doctor continued to glare at the detective, before he sighed and resumed looking out the window.

By the time the car finally reached its destination, John was alternating between glaring daggers at Sherlock and entirely ignoring him. Anthea gestured for the pair to exit the car, before closing the door and driving off. A waiter then ushered the pair towards a large country club house, wherein Mycroft was sat on a chair sipping a cup of tea.

"Ah, brother, I see you've finally returned from the dead."

"Wait, you mean you knew that Sherlock was alive and you didn't tell me?" John angrily demanded.

"It's lovely to see you too John," Mycroft replied. "Of course I knew Sherlock was alive, did you really think he was clever enough to come up with this whole scheme? Or have the resources to do so?"

John looked ready to pick up another argument, before Mycroft interrupted him.

"I have called you here because Moriarty has sent Sherlock a message. He-"

"Wait, so Moriarty is alive as well! When were you two planning on telling me that!"

"I just did John. Now, please be quiet, you're making it hard to think," replied Mycroft curtly.

Sherlock smirked smugly at the affronted look on John's face. He then turned to Mycroft. "What does Moriarty want this time?"

"Why don't you read the note and find out for yourself."

Sherlock picked up the piece of card, which he then flipped around in his hands.

"This is cotton paper, the type of cotton used to make this appears to be Gossypium arboretum, a plant native to India and Pakistan. However the ink, which has been written in calligraphy, is Quink which comes from the brand Parker, which is originally from the UK. It is therefore clear that Moriarty moved from a safe house in India to the UK long enough to collect the ink and send the message before moving on, most likely to pick up some more paper from India, although judging by the cracks running along the ink this was written over 72 hours ago and so it is more than likely he has moved on from India to an alternative safe house."

John sighed. He had forgotten how much he'd missed his friend's witty deductions, and it hurt him like a knife that it had been over 3 years since he'd heard those remarks.

"Sherlock, we know that Moriarty is out of the country just read the message itself."

Sherlock glanced down at the note, before doing the last thing John would have expected. He threw the note on the table before grabbing Mycroft by the collar.

"Please tell me you got there in time, you better have gotten there on time!"

"Relax Sherlock, he's fine, in fact I'm having him brought here as we speak."

"I'm sorry but what are you two talking about?" John asked. When neither of them answered, both of them too busy glaring at one another, the doctor walked over and picked up the note.

My Darling Sherly,

It's been a while, but don't worry, I'm still here. Now I've been feeling a little bit lonely as of recent, so I thought I'd do a bit of light reading, when I stumbled across something very interesting. I feel like I better brush up on my Arthurian legend, if I'm going to meet the warlock himself. I know you two have a close relationship, perhaps the three of us could get together. You can call me, I know you have my number.

M

Xxx

"What does he mean 'the warlock himself'? How do you know this person?"

Before either brother could answer him, a door slammed outside the house, followed by the sounds of yelling and screeching, before the door slammed open. The first person to enter had blonde hair and was sporting a large purple bruise on his forehead. John took note of the confusion in his eyes and decided it was likely due to concussion, which was supported by the fact he was leaning heavily on Anthea. However it was the second person to enter who really caught John attention. The lanky teenager who was being held up by one of Mycroft's bodyguards was screaming and kicking, causing his raven hair to fall into his crystal blue eyes, which were creased with anguish. But what John really noticed was the fact that the boy before him looked the spit of a young Sherlock.

The teenager bit the wrist of the larger man, causing him to drop him with a yelp. The teenager turned to face Mycroft.

"What the hell Mikey, I was in the middle of a lecture when this clotpole grabs me and kidnapped me, plus he knocked out Arthur which meant he came along too! If you wanted to talk to me couldn't you just have called! And- Sherly?

"Hello Merlin, so nice of you to join us," Mycroft greeted him, but Merlin seemed in too much shock to notice.

"Sherlock? But how- you were dead? But you are dead! I saw you die! You did die! I-"

And with that Merlin collapsed in a dead faint.

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**So what do you think? Should I post the rest? You decide!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! Ready for regular posts? Great! Then enjoy chapter 2! It's a bit of a filler but I promise next week the pace will pick up! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/favourite/followed**** the opening chapter!**

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CHAPTER 2

It had been an ordinary day at Cambridge for Merlin Holmes. He had woken up to the sound of his roommate and best friend's loud snoring as per usual, although that soon stopped after Merlin poured water all over the blonde boy's face.

"Merlin!" Arthur spluttered, scowling at the grinning teenager.

"Good morning your Highness, enjoying your beauty sleep?"

"I was, until you decided to tip half the ocean on my face! Idiot!"

"Clotpole."

"Dunce."

"Dollophead."

"That's not even a real word Merlin."

"Is to."

"Are you suggesting that if I looked in the dictionary I would find the term 'dollophead'?"

"Yep, the definition of which is Arthur Pendragon. Now hurry up and get dressed or we'll miss Gaius' lecture."

"Because that would be such a shame," Arthur muttered, but he grudgingly got out of bed and began getting dressed. Much as Arthur loved to complain about his lectures, he really didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Professor Gaius's famous eyebrows. The nineteen year old glanced over at his seventeen year old roommate, who had just tripped over his own feet, for the umpteenth time this year. He recalled how much he had hated the kid when they had first met, after Merlin had yelled at him for being a bully, before realising they would have to share a room. He had then persistently grated on Arthur's nerves for the next week, until Merlin had saved Arthur from nearly being run over by someone who had a grudge with his father. After that, the pair had become thick as thieves, much to the amusement of their family and friends.

"Earth to Arthur, come in prat!" Merlin yelled, waving his arms in front of Arthur's face, causing him to snap out of his thought trail. "Hurry up dollop head, we're going to be late for the lecture, again!"

The pair left the apartment and hurried toward the lecture hall. "You know we would have gotten here on time if somebody had woken up on time," Merlin huffed. "You're a right arse sometimes Arthur Pendragon, did you know that?" The younger boy handed over the battered textbook he had borrowed off his roommate the previous evening, before the pair finally entered the auditorium as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to their arrival. Although Arthur had been at the university for a year longer than his younger friend, he had changed his degree from business to history that year much to the annoyance of his father, and therefore the pair often shared lectures.

As the pair finally settled in their seats, they revelled in the fact they had arrived before their teacher. "Could you imagine how unbearable Gaius would be if we were late to his lecture again!" Arthur whispered.

"I imagine it would be something like this Mr Pendragon, and may I add what a pleasure it is that you could finally join us," said a voice from just behind Arthur's ear. Arthur froze, before turning around to face the elderly professor, wincing when he saw the dreaded raised eyebrow on his face. Merlin laughed at the sheer look if dread on his friend's face, with some of the others joining in.

"I'm glad you find this amusing Mr Holmes, I presume I can begin my lecture now you are quite comfortable."

"Sure, go ahead Uncle Gaius," Merlin answered cheekily, not looking bashful in the slightest for his answer. His uncle sighed at his nephew's blatant rudeness, before walking to the centre of the lecture hall.

"Right then, now that all of us are settled," he gave a pointed look in Arthur and Merlin's direction before continuing, "Perhaps we should begin our lecture. Today we will be delving deeper into the Arthurian legends." He ignored the groans coming from Arthur and Merlin, as well as the snickers from their classmates. "We will be comparing how the legends relate to what records we have of famous Arthurs throughout history," Merlin snickered at that, punching his friend's shoulder, who was currently burying his face into the palms of his hands, "And by the end of the week I expect all of you to have written a two thousand word essay on your findings." There were more than just the two groans about that statement. "Now, Arthurian legend states that..."

Merlin zoned out of the lecture, already knowing all about the Arthurian legends. Honestly, what was his mother thinking when she thought of that name. And his brothers thought their names were bad, try living with one related to an ancient warlock. Speaking of his brothers.

Merlin sighed. Although Mycroft kept constant tabs on him, Merlin secretly believed that it was more for his mother's sake than his, and his other brother Sherlock was dead. He was distraught when Sherlock had died, he'd been fourteen at the time and had taken the news very badly, as would any child.

Although Merlin had only been seven when Sherlock had moved out, declaring life in the Holmes house was 'boring', he had been much closer to Merlin than Merlin was to Mycroft. Then, when John Watson had begun writing a blog about the consulting detective who outwitted police and solved the most unusual of crimes five years after Sherlock had left, Merlin was in even more admiration of his brother. But when Sherlock died, that all fell apart.

Merlin had gone down a route of drinking in the park and picking fights, before it had all become to much and had been about to jump off the top of his school, when suddenly he saw a man stood below that looked exactly like Sherlock, who shook his head and mouthed 'No.' It was at that point that Merlin realised wasting his life away wouldn't bring Sherlock back, and so he had instead buried himself in academics and got top grades in all his GCSE's and A-Levels a year early, before securing a place at a prestigious university, with some help from his favourite uncle and his stellar results.

"Excuse me Sir but can I help you?"

Gaius' polite but firm question jolted Merlin out of his stupor. There was now a man stood in the middle of the room, dressed in what Arthur would refer to as a 'men in black' suit and tie. He was holding a Blackberry phone in one hand, the red light on it persistently flashing.

"I need to have a word with," he said, pausing to look down at his phone, "A Mr Holmes, first name Merlin." He looked up, and caught sight of the raven haired boy. "If you could come with me," he asked, although his tone suggested refusing was not an option.

Confused, Merlin looked at Gaius, who gave a slight shake to show that he didn't want Merlin leaving with the strange man, and looking to his left he could see Arthur did not look sure of the man either.

"May I inquire as to why you wish to take away my student?" Gaius asked, looking suspiciously at the man and pondering whether to call the university's security.

"I'm afraid that the matter is private business."

Business.

Suddenly it clicked with Merlin. "Tell Mycroft if he wants me he'll have to wait until after class," Merlin said, which eased both Gaius and Arthur now that they understood the situation.

"I'm afraid Mycroft doesn't want to he kept waiting," the man replied, and with that he walked over to where the teenager was sat, before grabbing him and carrying him out of the room.

"Hey, let me go! You can't do this! It's against the law!" Merlin yelled as the man strolled out of the room as though Merlin weighted no more than a feather.

"You should know by now Merlin that you're brother is the law," said a voice just out of Merlin's vision but he'd recognise it anywhere.

"Anthea, tell this lug to put me down, right now!" Merlin screeched, drawing attention from several students wandering the campus.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, you see Mycroft specifically gave me orders not to give you any chance of escape," she replied smugly, provoking a hiss of anger from Merlin.

"Put him down," a new voice said, and Merlin groaned as the world stunned with the movement of Mycroft's henchman. And on top of that, Arthur had gotten himself involved. Just great.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, now scram," the man replied, tightening his grip painfully on Merlin, causing him to yelp.

"I said put him down!" Arthur yelled, running at the man with his fist outstretched. Unfortunately for Arthur, the man simply lifted one of his own meaty paws, and gave Arthur a quick right hook that knocked him out cold.

"Great, now we'll have to take him too, nice going," Anthea sighed, pressing her fingers against her forehead.

"What, no!" Merlin yelled, but it was no use, the man merely adjusted Merlin's weight into one arm, before picking up Arthur and putting them both in the car. Anthea slid in afterwards.

The car journey was mostly spent in silence, with Merlin trying to figure out ways to free both himself and Arthur from their captives.

Suddenly, two things happened. One, the car jolted to a halt, and two, the motion caused Arthur to wake up, looking very confused.

"Wass happened?" he groggily asked, before the door swung open and the bodyguard appeared again.

"We have arrive," he stated bluntly.

"I'll help this one, you focus on that one," Anthea said, pointing him towards Merlin.

"Hey, wait!" Merlin protested, before he was once again lifted. "Put me down! I have legs! I swear I'm going to kill Mikey when I see him!"

He was carried into a large country club, one of Mycroft's many favourites. Within minutes, they were inside, and Merlin could here the sound of Mycroft growing louder. He bit the wrist of the man holding him, before turning to yell at his brother.

"What the hell Mikey, I was in the middle of a lecture when this clotpole grabs me and kidnapped me, plus he knocked out Arthur which meant he came along too! If you wanted to talk to me couldn't you just have called? And -Sherly?"

Suddenly the world stopped for Merlin. Because there was no way that Sherlock Holmes was stood before him. Because Sherlock was dead! Wasn't he?

"Sherlock? But how- you were dead? But you are dead! I saw you die! You did die! I-"

Merlin's head began pounding with each word, as well as his heart thumping at a speed unknown to man. His chest felt clammy and he couldn't breathe. Because Sherlock couldn't be alive.

There was really only one sensible thing to do.

He fainted.

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**I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2 so read and review! Now I'm in the process of writing Chapter 7, and I can tell you now the story is going to be longer than I had originally anticipated, so it's looking now to be about 10 chapters long. Therefore, if there are any characters from either genre you would like to see in this, feel free to let me know, and I'll consider it! There is only one character I won't be adding, and that's Molly, due to a concept I am toying around with as part of a sequel (I know, getting ahead of myself here) :) Also I I'd like to thank my awesome new beta Abbyembers for betaing chapters 1 and 2. **

**Finally I'd like to thank Jules.a, Abbyembers, gucia, aurora-dawn69, Lady Ningrum, Lianarias, Merthur1, Guest, Mergana Pendragon, Justanotherfanagain, Sahba and superwholockvengerson- serinity for reviewing. And to all my followers and favouriters, thanks you too! See you next week with Chapter 3 and virtual cookies to anyone who reviews (and yes I am bribing you)****! **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Looking at the expressions on the two other men's faces, John assumed that had not been the reaction they had been expecting.

"Well that wasn't quite how I'd planned this to go," Mycroft said, just as John realised why Merlin's reaction to seeing Sherlock had been so severe.

"Wait a minute, you didn't tell him that Sherlock was alive? He thinks Sherlock should be dead! How could you keep that from your youngest brother?"

"He wouldn't have been able to convincingly act like I was dead," Sherlock said coldly, "He was never any good at keeping secrets."

"So instead you let him be tormented with the knowledge you were dead! Think about how badly he could have reacted! Christ, he doesn't look much older than twenty!"

"He's seventeen," Mycroft cut in.

"That's even worse! He would have been fourteen when you died! Jesus, it's a wonder he looks so well! Think about how poorly I handled the situation, and I am nineteen years older than him!"

"I stopped him from jumping, it's not like I could have predicted his reaction to my demise. Death is just a boring fact of life," Sherlock said nonchalantly.

"He tried to jump! And you still didn't tell him you were alive! You know what, I knew you were pretty useless when it came to feelings, but I always thought you had at least some sort of emotion locked up deep down in you. Now I know I was wrong."

"Are you disappointed in me again John?"

"Unbelievable," John muttered and with that he walked over to where Anthea had dumped Arthur, who was sat with a dazed look in his eyes. "Hello there, you must be the Arthur Merlin mentioned, my name's Doctor John Watson, is it ok if I check you for concussion?"

"Sure," Arthur murmured, "But I'm pretty sure already that I have concussion."

"Why?" John asked.

"Because there is no way that Sherlock Holmes is sat there."

"I can assure you that he is, unfortunately."

"But that makes no sense!" Arthur yelped as John lightly pressed cool hands against the purpling bruise on his head. "I saw the news report on his death, but more so than that, I've seen Merlin get very upset at the mention of him, he practically worshipped the man and was devastated when he died from what I've gathered. When he gets drunk he always brings up how much he misses him!"

"I'm afraid that Sherlock is alive. He's an ** for keeping this from his younger brother. As is Mycroft." John raised his voice with those statements, much to the annoyance of both the older Holmes's. "Anyway, it looks like you do have a slight concussion, but the only advice I can give you about that is to take some aspirin."

"Thanks,wait, where's Merlin?"

John went to point to where the boy had collapsed on the floor, but there was no longer anyone there.

"Sherlock," John said worriedly, forgetting his quarrel with his younger friend. "Merlin's vanished."

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Merlin was sat on a wooden rope swing in a park nearby to where the country club had was. His mind was whirring full of disjointed thoughts. Contrary to what many thought, Merlin did share the deductive skills of both his older brothers, without the power complex of Mycroft or the attitude of Sherlock. He had known from the moment he had entered the room that John had only recently regained his psychosomatic limp due to the stress of a recent reunion, and that Mycroft had gained three pounds due to a scandal concerning the radiation poisoning of an ex- Russian spy, which he had supposed to have covered up. Unlike his brothers though, Merlin preferred to keep his gift well hidden, after years of bullying and beatings from his peers. It turned out not everyone liked to know their father was an alcoholic or that their mother was having an affair with the postman.

Merlin's thoughts turned then to his brothers. Why hadn't they told him that Sherlock was alive? The ache that filled him when he had awoken to find that Sherlock didn't think he could lie about the fact he was alive hurt him deeply. He'd hidden that particular skill set from the school bullies and university faculty for several years, having been already tormented for skipping a year of school; the only people that knew about his ability were Gaius and his friends Lancelot and Will, although secretly Merlin suspected that his drunken study partner Gwaine might have guessed that Merlin was much smarter than he let on. But the fact that Sherlock deemed him untrustworthy filled him with sorrow.

Suddenly a horrid thought struck him. "Is it because I'm... normal?" Merlin pondered aloud.

He'd never considered that being normal was a bad thing, much to the despair of his brothers. On the contrary, he'd found that by acting like one of the crowd he could more easily infiltrate the popular groups and fit in, rather than being that weirdo on the fringes of society as he had been as a child. Perhaps though Sherlock resented how easily Merlin had rejected him when he was young.

The pair had been extremely close as children despite the eleven year age gap between the two of them. Sherlock had enjoyed having someone whom he could share his deductions with without fear of the consequences, and Merlin had enjoyed the company of his brother being a lonely child himself. However when Merlin had reached seven, he began the pretence of normality to please those around him, which Sherlock disapproved of, declaring Merlin was now 'boring.' A few weeks later, the day he turned eighteen, Sherlock left home and Merlin hadn't spoken to him face to face since, as Sherlock refused to speak to him.

Merlin sighed and stood up. He had worried the others long enough, it was probably about time he headed back. Besides, he wanted to check that Arthur was ok, the overprotective idiot was probably ranting at Sherlock already. Something which Merlin was already to join in with.

As he wandered along the street, he cast his thoughts towards his future. He'd had a couple of offers from Gaius to find him a job amongst the university when he was done, but Merlin had politely declined them. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but it had to be just as big, if not bigger, than his elder brothers.

He'd show Sherlock. And Mycroft too. "I'm not normal, I can be just as intelligent as they are," he said quietly to himself.

"I don't doubt you can be darling," came a lilting voice from behind him.

Quickly spinning around, Merlin noticed a man leaning against a black Aston Martin not dissimilar to the car Mycroft enjoyed using. He was dressed in a suit which Merlin deduced was custom fitted from Westwood. The voice he'd spoken with was clearly Irish, and in his hand he held a single apple. But it was his face that really caught his was the face of a man who Merlin knew, not personally, but someone who had a hand in the supposed suicide of his brother; a man who was supposed to be dead too.

"Hi there. The name's Jim Moriarty. You must be Merlin Holmes! Why don't we have a little chat?"

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**Hello again! Hope you enjoyed chapter 3 and don't forget to review! Those who do get previews and bonus content! :) Speaking of reviews, huge thank you's to Lady Ningrum, Doctor Frostybuscus, Ve, Sahba and Ellen! :) A big thank you to my awesome beta Morgana-Le-Fai! See y'all next week :)**

**IndiaMoore**


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

"Sherlock," John said worriedly, forgetting his quarrel with his younger friend. "Merlin's vanished."

"What do you mean he's gone!" Sherlock yelled. "Where did he go!"

"Calm yourself brother, he can't have gotten very far. I'm sure security cameras in the area will have seen him leave," said Mycroft calmly, and with that he walked over to a large computer which John hadn't noticed before. The system loaded and began to show the several rolls of CCTV footage in the area, including an image of a dark haired young man sitting on a swing in a park.

"See, now all we have to do is-"

Suddenly, the screen began to flicker before dying. The image was replaced by a giant M.

"Moriarty," John said breathily. "As if this day wasn't strange enough."

"Wait, isn't that the name of that guy who told us all you were-"

"Dead?" Sherlock interrupted Arthur. "Precisely. And now he is no doubt on his way to Merlin."

"Well, what are you all waiting for!" Arthur yelled impulsively. "We have to go get Merlin. Come on!"

With that, Arthur rushed over to the door, only to find the door jammed.

"This place has electronic key coded locks that activate when the door is closed, as it was when Merlin ran away. Moriarty has hacked them, am I right brother dear?" Sherlock said aloofly to Mycroft, who had the decency to look bashful.

"Wait, so that means-"

"We're stuck here until Moriarty chooses to let us go."

Merlin stood frozen as he stared at the deranged man in front of him. "You're-"

"Yes, it seems a lot of people don't seem to be staying dead when they should. Take your brother for an example." Merlin visibly flinched at the mention of Sherlock. "He and I both went back on our promises, but I had a fair reason. And by that I mean, he wouldn't call me! But then your brother has always been considered rude by people. I mean look at the way he treated you, my pet," Jim declared, practically spitting the last word. "He cast you aside the moment he was done playing with you!"

Moriarty then gave a sinister looking smile. "If I had someone like you, to keep company and share things with, I would never let them go." Merlin swallowed reflexively, uneasy at the hidden message within those words. "I mean, think of all the things we could do together. All the crime we could bring, the terror and the thrill swirling around you. Everyone, everywhere, fearing the very mention of your name!"

As Moriarty rambled on, Merlin adeptly slid his phone out of his pocket. Years of practice at hiding his texting from teachers, along with some lessons from Sherlock when he was younger which had been permanently imprinted on his eidetic mind, meant he had no trouble with sending a plea for help to Arthur's phone. He only prayed that Arthur, and by extension his brothers, would find him and save him, before Moriarty would figure out what he had done.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to text whilst in conversation?"

Too late.

A heavy slap on his cheek sent Merlin sprawling along the floor, catching his head on the concrete pavement as he went. He took a gulping breath as a boot to his stomach swiftly followed.

"It really is a shame you won't help me Merlin. I'm afraid now the only thing you're good for now is fish bait. Hope Sherlock can swim," Moriarty declared and before Merlin could try and figure out what he meant, a swift heel to his forehead knocked him out cold.

As one of Mycroft's techies furiously tapped at keys, trying to break through the encryptions on the computer in front of him, the eldest Holmes himself was glaring at his own computer, and appeared to be having what could only be described as a bellowing match down the phone to him.

"What do you mean all our cameras have been hacked! Nobody, not even Moriarty, can hack through all the government's cameras. And even then, surely it can't take-", he glared at his watch, "-9 hours to fix this mess." A pause followed, with Mycroft's face growing redder as the person on the other end said something that was unintelligible from where John and Arthur were sat, although judging by the smirk on Sherlock's face it was something derogatory. "Listen to me," Mycroft hissed, interrupting whatever the other person was saying. "I have the power to make sure that not only are you fired, but that you will never work again, you're house will be repossessed and you will be placed under a heavy fine. When I say find a solution, you find one! Is that clear?"

A very pregnant pause followed, before a rather timid reply came, followed by Mycroft placing the phone on speaker and sitting back down on his chair. "There, now we just have to wait."

Minor position in the government my arse, thought John.

No sooner had John thought those words, the computer screen began to flicker off the image of the M. "See," he said to no one in particular, picking up the phone carefully. "Good work."

"Sir, it's not me, the encryption was triple coded, it would have taken me at least another hour to hack it," came the fearful reply.

The screen stopped flickering, before a loading bar began scrolling, Moriarty's grinning face as the cursor.

"It looks like Jim has a message for us," Sherlock said softly, his face impassive but John could see in his eyes the worry of the implication of his own words.

As feared, when the bar completed, the screen changed to a live feed, with the video showing a bruised and unconscious Merlin Holmes.

Sherlock was terrified. He would never admit it to anyone, especially his brothers and John, but the image in front of him was enough to jerk at his heart. A reddened bruise to the right cheek, most likely caused by a hard slap, which resulted in knocking him backward. Merlin couldn't have gotten far from the park when Moriarty found him, the screen had only been down an hour, indicating he would have been on a street when he was found, suggesting Merlin was got the large cut on his forehead from an impact with concrete or stone paving, although the reason for impact could have been caused by up to 37 different methods, the most likely of which was the hit to his face. There was also a bruise on his forehead, darker in colour and more prominent than the other bruise. Normally, this would indicate that bruise had been made first, however the fact the bruise actually consisted of three separate strikes, resulting in the strange shape and angle of the bruise. It was probably made by a shoe, size 11, of Italian make with leather soles, judging by the markings visible on the bruise.

And then there was the way Merlin was seated. Thick iron chains, most likely from a ship yard which appeared to be where Merlin was situated, suggesting they could have gone overseas, were strapped to his wrists and across his chest held him to a steel chair, all implied that escape would be very difficult. There was also a set of leather straps holding his ankles down, so that he would be unable to kick his captor. All in all, a bit not good, as John would put it.

Sherlock was snapped out of his deduction by movement in the background of the image, and out of the shadows grew a figure Sherlock had hoped he would never see again.

"Moriarty," he spat.

"Hello there Sherly, it's a pleasure to see you as well," Moriarty stated, and with a shock Sherlock realised that Moriarty could see them through the inbuilt camera on the computer. "And John and Mycroft, it's lovely to see you two too! And... you are?"

"Arthur Pendragon," Arthur growled, his eyes glued to the unmoving form of his room mate and best friend.

"Alright, no need to get touchy, we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other."

"What do you want Moriarty?"

"John, I'm hurt that you think I would want anything from you. Can we not just have a friendly chat-"

"What game are you playing Jim?" Sherlock asked.

"A game, now there's an idea!" Moriarty said, clapping his hands with glee. "How about a game of riddles?" he said, a pointed look at John as he said it, much to John's confusion. "If you win, you get to have Merlin back, but if I win, I will keep my prize."

"Merlin is not a prize," Arthur yelled.

"Tut tut, temper temper. But fine, if you don't want to play properly then I'll leave you just one little clue as to where Merlin is." Moriarty cleared his throat dramatically.

"Hickory Dickory Dock,  
There are 72 hours on the clock,  
When the clock goes down,  
Then Merlin will drown,  
So you better hurry up Sherlock!"

Moriarty cackled at his own game, before adding, "The clock's just started and so the game begins. Remember it's the taking part that counts, my dears, but I've given you a clue already so no more I'm afraid. Oh and Sherlock, it's a big world, so you better start searching quickly."

And with that the screen went black, leaving the four men standing there.

* * *

**Thanks to Lady Ningrum, and my two guests for reviewing! :) the rest of you, thanks for reading but please try and review, I don't care if it's even just 'good' or 'shite'. Also thanks to this weeks beta my good friend Sophie Cooke, who has just found my pen name and will no doubt be harassing me on here :) Now bad news- I can't update next week as I am in centre Parcs :( however I promise I will be back in two weeks a new person :) (well I'll still be ginger but... :) so see you all in two weeks with Chapter 5 and don't forget to r&r :)**

**oooh IMPORTANT NOTICE before I forget to reply, it has been asked by one of the guests if Merlin will have magic, I haven't decided yet so feel free to review me with your thoughts as to that point! :)**

**I've also had a request for fan art, I'm happy for people to create fan art as long as they add that its based on my story - thanks :) **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The four men remained motionless for several minutes, before Arthur yelled out an animalistic roar and punched the wall. He then sank to the floor, clutching his wounded wrist, but all the while his eyes remained fixed on the blank screen, as though he could somehow will it to show Merlin again.

"I shouldn't have let him leave with you, if I had only fought harder we wouldn't be in this situation," Arthur said softly, his face expressionless but his eyes were pools of sorrow and guilt.

"It wasn't your fault Arthur," John reassured him, rubbing the young man's back comfortingly. "The past is the past, what's done is done, no matter how much we wish we could change it." John fixed a very sharp gaze on Sherlock as he spoke, who was still staring blankly at the screen. "What we can do is get Merlin back, safe."

Arthur continued to look lost for a few more minutes, a few frustrated and fearful tears collecting in his eyes, before he took a deep breath and composed himself. He turned towards Mycroft and Sherlock.

"So where are they? You heard what Moriarty said, we haven't got much time."

"I haven't the foggiest," Mycroft replied coolly. As Arthur went to yell at him, Mycroft continued. "We are trapped here until someone releases us, all my cameras are down and Moriarty could be anywhere in the world, in areas that are far out of my jurisdiction. I have nothing," he spat, a rare display of emotion radiating from the older man, one of frustration and anguish.

Seeing that Mycroft couldn't help them, John walked over to where Sherlock was. "Do you have any ideas Sherlock? ... Sherlock? Sherlock?!"

* * *

_"Sherlock?" asked the tiny boy with large ears and large kaleidoscope eyes. "Are you still mad at me?"_

_"Why would I be mad at you Merlin," the teenager replied emotionlessly, staring through a microscope at a water sample taken by police thirteen years earlier, from the pool Carl Powers drowned in. Was murdered in, Sherlock corrected himself, as he stared at the stolen sample. Other cases had come and gone over the years, but this case still intrigued him, it was clearly murder but the imbecilic morons that enforced the law refused to believe it was anything more than an accident._

_"You sound kind of mad Sherlock," Merlin muttered, looking down at his shoes. Shoes._

_"Of course, the police never found Carl's shoes, which would suggest that whatever Carl had come into contact with to cause his death was probably hidden in the shoes! How could I have been so stupid?' He got up, ignoring his seven year old brother in favour of picking up a newspaper, flicking through it to see if there was anything of interest in there._

_"Sherlock, I just wanted them to think I was normal so they'd stop hitting me," the younger boy burst, unconsciously rubbing his arm where Sherlock had already deduced were hand shaped bruises. "Didn't you ever want to be normal?"_

_Sherlock's temper snapped. "No, Merlin, why would I want to be normal? Normal is boring. Normal will not solve crimes or interest me. You want to be normal, fine. But don't expect me to pay attention, I don't make friends with boring people, because no one wants to be around people like that. No one will ever want to be friends with you!"_

_And with that the older boy pushed his younger brother out the room and locked the door, ignoring the thuds of fist knocking on wood and pitiful sobs mingled between cries of his name._

_"Sherlock! Sherlock, please! Sherlock I won't be boring anymore! Please! Sherlock..."_

* * *

"Please! Sherlock! Snap out of it you moron! Sherlock!"

A heavy slap to Sherlock's face brought him back into reality. "What?" Sherlock asked irritably.

"Finally, you've been zoned out for nearly 5 minutes! I was just about to throw water over you!" John exclaimed

"I was busy in-"

"Yes, yes, in your mind palace, I've been through this before," Mycroft said, much to the amusement of Arthur.

"A mind palace, seriously?"

"Not the time," said John, reminding them all of the situation they were in. "Do you have any ideas as to where Moriarty might be holding Merlin?"

Yes, Moriarty, Sherlock thought, still shaken by the memory and glad to take his mind off it, if only temporarily.

"Moriarty will have left us a clue as to where he has taken Merlin, he hates keeping secrets, he likes people to know what his latest escapade is. He enjoys the show. Now we know that he took Merlin precisely nine and a half hours ago-"

"Wait, no we don't," said Arthur, "The security went down before we knew where Merlin was-"

"The clock in the corner of the screen before Moriarty's screen came up indicated ten am, suggesting Moriarty arrived then. We then waited exactly nine hours for Moriarty to reply, which was ten minutes long, and then we remained still for a further five minutes. I started talking five minutes ago. Do the maths Pendragon."

Arthur looked as though he'd been slapped in the face, until John pointed out,"You do realise that only adds up to nine hours and twenty minutes."

"Irrelevant," Sherlock huffed.

"Irrelevant you can't do elementary maths, or irrelevant that you were proved wrong?"

"That we are continuing this conversation at all."

"Anyway-" Arthur interrupted what was about to turn into a full blown argument. "How does the time help us find Merlin?"

"Isn't it simple?"

"To be quite honest, not really," said an aggravated Arthur.

"Dear Lord, how small your normal little mind must be. Moriarty had a fixed time window in which he could change location, meaning he only had nine and a half-"

"Nine hours and twenty minutes-"

"To kidnap Merlin and get him to the location of his choice, and send the video message."

"So! There are thousands of places where Merlin could be within those time zones!" Arthur yelled impatiently.

"No there aren't," was Sherlock's reply. "Merlin was clearly at a shipyard, one containing water judging by the rhyme he sent us. And there was one other clue he gave us earlier today."

"What?" exclaimed the three other men.

"This," Sherlock replied, revealing in his hands a slip of paper, the same piece John realized, that had been sent to them by Moriarty earlier.

"What about Moriarty's note? How can that tell us where Merlin is?" John asked, but something was niggling at the back of his mind.

Wait.

_"This is cotton paper, the type of cotton used to make this appears to be Gossypium arboretum, a plant native to India. However the ink, which has been written in calligraphy, is Quink which comes from the brand Parker, which is originally from the UK, now only in Cornwall. It is therefore clear that Moriarty moved from a safe house in India to the UK long enough to collect the ink and send the message before moving on, most likely to pick up some more paper from India, although judging by the cracks running along the ink this was written over 72 hours ago and so it is more than likely he has moved on from India to an alternative safe house."_

"You mean-"

"Yes John," said Sherlock, his eyes displaying pride at John's realization. "Merlin is either in Cornwall, England; or New Delhi, India."

* * *

**So I'm back! And I come bearing Chapter 5! I wonder if anyone deduced where this story was heading- and perhaps where it will be heading next! I'm currently writing Chapter 8 so you never know- your idea might make it into the story! In regards to my AN last chapter and the poll that came with it- the results are in and so Merlin will be getting magic, although it will not be in the same way as the show, and it will be featured more in the sequel! Finally, thank you to my 3 guest reviewers, Tolleren, feathered moon wings, Fai's smile, Alligates, Sahba and for their lovely reviews, and thanks to ****Morgana-Le-Fai for betaing.**

**So in conclusion, read and review with what you want to happen next, your opinions on the poll results; and I'll see you all next week! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**I apologise for the shortness of this chapter- I dislike how it turned out. It's also currently unbeta-ed so I apologise for any mistakes :)**

* * *

CHAPTER 6

Arthur had to admit, Merlin he could see why Merlin appeared to idolize his older brother's deductive skills. It would have taken Arthur, who considered himself to be reasonably clever, a lot longer to have even begun to rule out locations, and he never would have gotten it down to two locations. The only question was-

"How do we know which location Moriarty has gone to?"

"We don't," replied Sherlock, "Not at this point anyway. The fastest way to find out is to check."

"But how are we going to get out of here, the door is still locked."

No sooner had Arthur uttered those words, there came a knocking on the other side of the door, before the definitive sound of the lock clicking open.

"It appears my team have finally cracked the lock," Mycroft said smugly.

"Or Moriarty has decided to let us go," John noted.

"Either way, we should set off for Cornwall immediately," said Arthur. "Let's go find Merlin."

* * *

The car journey to Cornwall was long and arduous, tension filling the remaining hours of day. It was now late at night, the only sound filling the car being Arthur's loud snoring, which jolted John out of his own slumber. He rubbed his sleep filled eyes and noticed that Sherlock was still awake, his gaze fixed to the window.

"Sherlock, are you ok?" asked John quietly, not wanting to disturb the others.

"Of course I am John, why wouldn't I be," the detective replied curtly.

"Oh I don't know, perhaps because your youngest brother has been kidnapped by an evil psychopath, and in less than three days time could be drowned!"

"Your point being?"

John sighed. "Why didn't you tell me about Merlin?"

"Why would I need to?" replied Sherlock, although a pointed look from John made him sigh. "We had an argument a few years ago, where I called him boring."

"What else did you say Sherlock, I know that's not the full story."

"I-", he hesitated. "I told him no one would ever want to be his friend, and a few weeks later I left home. He had tried to be normal to prevent bullying from his peers, and I ridiculed him and ignored him for it. I didn't tell you about him because I worried you would want to meet him, and I just know he will never forgive me," finished Sherlock, rare flickers of emotion filtering through his usual stoic mask.

"Oh Sherlock you moron," John said softly, leaning over to rest his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "From what I saw, Merlin forgave you a long time ago. Would have he have been so upset by your death if he hadn't?"

"Social protocol states that when one dies one's family should-"

"Social protocol also states you don't reveal a person's history the first time you meet them or kidnap people to convince them to spy on your brother. Holmes' don't do social protocol. Not even Merlin. He cares for you."

"Do you really think he's forgiven me?" asked Sherlock, his voice very much sounding like he dared not hope to believe it.

"Of course I do Sherlock, I wouldn't tell you if I didn't."

There was a pause. Then-

"Have you forgiven me yet John?"

John paused, truly thinking about the question. "Not yet," he said, and Sherlock's expression became crestfallen. "But given time, I believe I will." Sherlock looked pleased again and in a heat of the moment feeling, John pulled Sherlock into an awkward hug.

"You know, I would assume you two were together if he wasn't such an arse and you weren't straight," mumbled a sleepy Arthur, who John realised must have awoken to see the two men whispering and cuddling.

"You know, I could say the same thing about you and Merlin."

"You won't believe the amount of times our friends have said that," Arthur smiled, but it was strained and tainted with sadness.

"We will find him, alive and well," John said softly, before trying to get back to sleep. He almost didn't hear what Arthur muttered next.

"I know."

There was a slight pause.

"I just really miss the idiot."

* * *

**Hello again. I apologise for the fact that this chapter is only 700 words, I really wanted to end it though on that bit. I promise the next chapter will pick up more :) on another note one of my guest reviewers complained about the way I portray Merlin and want to see more of his intelligence. Merlin does not feature as much in this story, he is the centre of the sequel though, and I promise you will see a new side of him then. Well done to those of you who have been predicting what will happen near the end- some of you are very close. I'm currently writing chapter 8 and can now tell you I am almost 99% certain this will be ten chapters long... I think! :) A big thanks to my reviewers; feathered moon wings, Lady Ningrum, Sabha and Me Who Else :) **

**I'm really hoping to make it to 40 reviews by my next update, so perhaps I'll hold this story hostage until that point...**

**I kid, but seriously guys 6 reviews one week? Please let's try and make it happen :)**

**I'll stop rambling now, thanks to everyone who reads this and I'll see y'all next week (hopefully with 40 reviews... Or more! :) )**


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

After silence fell in the car again, and Sherlock and John had fallen asleep, Arthur took his first proper look at Sherlock. It's not often one dislikes a man they've never met before, but Arthur was willing to make an exception. The man was not only obnoxious and arrogant on the outside, but considering his and Merlin's past-

* * *

_It had taken almost a month after Merlin and Arthur had become friends for him for Arthur to realise the connection between Merlin and Sherlock. It had taken him longer to realise how much of an impact the man had had on Merlin's life._

_He walked into there shared dormitory only to hear the sound of broken down sobs coming from the bathroom._

_"Hello? Merlin? Are you ok?"_

_When no reply came, he knocked on the door lightly before pushing it open, revealing the gangly teen sat on the bathroom floor holding a crumpled newspaper article in his hands._

_"Merlin, what's wrong," he said, sitting himself down beside his distraught roommate and wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders._

_"It's nothing, I'm sorry I bothered you."_

_"It doesn't look like nothing," Arthur gently replied, rubbing his thumb on Merlin's arm._

_"I don't want to bore you with my sob stories Arthur." Merlin sniffed, his voice wavering on the word bore as though it held some significant meaning._

_"C'mon Merls, it couldn't possibly bore me. We're friends after all!"_

* * *

Little had Arthur known how much those words had meant to his roommate back then, but after Merlin had broken down against Arthur and revealed his past, his fight with his brother, the effects of both Sherlock's betrayal and death, his attempted suicide, everything. It had turned out that day had been the one year anniversary of Sherlock's death, and the memories had been to much to cope with.

So of course Arthur was going to be resentful against the man who had hurt his best friend so badly, no matter what the relation he was to Merlin. He could put up with Sherlock until they find Merlin. And Sherlock better had make it up to Merlin when he returns, he thought to himself, or else he'll have he'll to pay.

* * *

Cornwall was exactly what John had expected and despised; hot and crowded. It was places like this that brought on his PTSD, and so he usually avoided locations like this. But this is for Sherlock's little brother, he reminded himself, and he steeled himself onward.

"So where do we even start?" asked Arthur, glancing around every so often as though Moriarty would just jump out from behind a building, Merlin in tow.

"As I said earlier, Moriarty is clearly holding Merlin near water,"said Sherlock. "We know it also had to be somewhere to do with boats, because not only were those industrial shipyard chains holding Merlin to the chair, but there was also a speedboat, a 2011 Yamaha FZR if I'm not mistaken, something commonly used for water sports, although more likely to be owned privately that in a company. Therefore Moriarty has Merlin kept either at the beach, within a small warehouse, or at a shipyard."

"Brilliant," said John.

"Bloody creepy,"declared Arthur.

"There's one slight problem with that methodology, dear brother. There are 97 beaches in Cornwall and 4 major shipyards, there is no way we can search them all," said Mycroft.

"But we don't need to. On the way here I searched the current owners of Yamaha FZR's in Cornwall, and out of all those beaches only two have private storage sheds large enough to hold both a boat and Merlin, with only one of them currently in use, down on Loe Bar road. There is also currently the sister boat, nearly identical to the FZR, the FZS, in one of the docks, the Square Sail Shipyard."

"Let's go then," said John enthusiastically, "Time's wasting!"

* * *

Loe Bar road was not what Arthur had expected. The road was essentially a dirt track which lead up to a cliff that overlooked a private beach, and on top of which sat a large shack which he presumed must be the boat shed.

"There it is," pointed Sherlock. "I presume it's locked so I need a small pin preferably or a pen lid."

"We're can't just break into the boat shed Sherlock," John huffed with exasperation at his roommate's idea.

"I've broken into harder places John. Like that time you left your bedroom door locked to conceal the chocolate skull you'd bought me for Christmas this year."

"That's not what I meant Sherlock and- hey! You can't just break into my room just so you can sneak a peak at your Christmas present, which I am now reconsidering giving you! As I was saying we need to ask to come up with a plan, in case Moriarty is in there, or if Merlin's hurt."

"Why don't we try knocking on the door and see who answers it, before we break in?"asked Arthur helpfully.

"Oh yes, why not! In fact, let me just ring Moriarty and invite him round for tea!" Sherlock replied in a snarky tone.

"Oh shut it Sherlock, it's your fault Merlin got caught in the first place!" Arthur snapped back at him, his frustration at their lack of progress and Sherlock's know-it-all attitude angering the teenager.

"Oh really, please elaborate that for me would you Arthur."

"Fine then, I suppose I'll have to seeing as you're too stupid to deduce it for yourself. The reason he left yesterday was because he didn't know how to handle seeing any of you. He hasn't got a massive self esteem in case you haven't noticed, something which is also your's and Mycroft's fault."

"I have no idea what gave you that impression and the reasons behind it," Mycroft began, but Arthur quickly interrupted.

"Of course you don't, because you were never there for Merlin. Oh sure, you tried to bribe away Merlin's affections with money and power, but Merlin isn't like you, like either of you, he needs attention and affection as well. I suppose though you still aren't as bad as Sherlock here, who purposefully abandoned his brother and essentially told him he was worthless then deserted him. Oh yes, Sherlock" he jeered at the look of shock on the detective's face. "I know all about how you treated Merlin in the past. So don't try and act all high and mighty when you don't even have the right to. I'm done with your help," he finally declared, storming off back towards the city centre. "I can find Merlin on my own."

Sherlock stood there in shock, his eyes unreadable to the two other remaining men, whilst John walked in a subdued manner towards the boat shed door. He twisted the handle, which surprisingly opened up to reveal an empty building, aside from one crisp sheet, which he picked up before reading it out loud.

"Nice try, but not good enough. Guess your skills of deduction aren't quite as good as you think they are. M." He sighed and slunk down to the floor.

"Fantastic. We are still no closer to finding Merlin, Sherlock's turned catatonic again, Arthur's run off and we've only got-" he glanced at his phone screen, "- 50 hours left. Just bloody fantastic."

* * *

**Sorry the update is late and unbetaed, I was at a friends 17th last night and stayed over at hers, and I'm sorry for last nights AN, I was writing with only 4 hours sleep, and had just spent over 5 hours typing up the Crucible for my AS Drama. So, thank you for bearing with me.**

**I'd like to thank all my reviewers; feathered moon wings, superwholockvengerson-serenity, Booksquirm, Sabha, battlemaiden518 and a particular thank you to CaptainXena-Mation, who took the time to review all my chapters during this week :)**

**And now for the promised news, I'm afraid this is the beginning of the end of Nursery Rhymes :( there are now only two chapters remaining, plus the epilogue! I've loved every minute of this story, and have rarely been struck by writers block, which is a huge deal for me. Now for some slightly better news, I have already begun structuring the sequel, so there will hopefully only be a short waiy. Unfortunately, I am trying to finish some of my other stories first, as I've left them on hiatus for far too long, so they will take priority over the sequel.**

**That's all from me for now, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review for sneak previews of upcoming chapters :) See you all next week!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The dark haired man took another swig of his drink, glancing lovingly into Chantelle's bust. Or was it Mary's? Lucy's? It didn't matter for long, because even as he tried to recall her name, Gemma, because yes, that was her name, had slapped his face and stormed back off towards her friends. Ah well, he thought to himself, as he swirled his cider around, plenty more fish in the sea. And even if there are not bites today, there was always drowning his woes in alcohol. And with that he ordered another cider from an equally attractive waitress, shamelessly flirting with her as though the previous girl had never existed.

As the girl wandered off to collect his order, a large man leaned against the bar next to Gwaine, his weight almost indenting the surface.

"For god's sake Gwaine, slow down on the alcohol intake! This is what, your tenth beer and sixth girl, and it's only half five! What would Merlin say if he saw you, isn't he supposed to be tutoring you Monday?"

"Ah Percy you worry too much!" Gwaine replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief at the thought of his younger study partner. "Merls knows I'm in Cornwall for a bachelor weekend, he won't expect me to come back on Monday unless it's with a raging hangover! Besides, him and Arthur have gotten pretty close, wouldn't surprise me if they aren't revising together anyway!"

"I don't think they're revising together Gwaine?"

"Well why not?"

"Because Arthur's sat over there with a pint."

* * *

After ranting his thoughts at Sherlock and Mycroft, Arthur had spent the first five minutes feeling pretty smug with himself. That was until he realised he was now no closer to finding Merlin than he was before, only now he was alone with no clue as to where to look next.

_I'm not going back there, he thought to himself. If that bloody Sherlock can come up with ideas then there is no reason I can't!_

_Right then, first things first. Places. If I was an evil psychopath with tons of money, where would I go?_

_Wait. Didn't Sherlock say-_

**_"On the way here I searched the current owners of Yamaha FZR's in Cornwall, and out of all those beaches only two have private storage sheds large enough to hold both a boat and Merlin, with only one of them currently in use, down on Loe Bar road. There is also currently the sister boat, nearly identical to the FZR, the FZS, in one of the docks, the Square Sail Shipyard."_**

_I bet Sherlock has forgotten he even said that! I can get there first and rescue Merlin, before they even arrive. How's that for deducting_, he thought smugly to himself. Arthur pulled up his phone, and searched the address of the Square Sail Shipyard, before making his way there.

* * *

There was something not quite right about the area, Arthur thought as he gazed at the rusty iron bars that enclosed the shipyard, not that he could put his finger on it. He climbed over the metal bars, wincing as rust caught under his fingers.

Sound. There was not a single sound throughout the whole pier. Not a single soul. Until-

"Help!" came a soft cry of pain Arthur knew only too well. "Please stop it! Let me go! Please, anybody!" The voice was almost non existent, and Arthur almost thought he'd made it up. That was until-

"Arthur? Arthur, where are you, you prat?" There was only one idiot who got to call Arthur names and was allowed to live. He quickly sped along the pier, frantically trying to pinpoint the source of the yells, which were now mingled with cries of pain. "Sherlock! Mycroft? Anybody? Wait, what's that? Please get off me! What are you doing?! Stop-" A shriek of pain interrupted whatever Merlin was saying, and suddenly the voice was a lot quieter. Arthur had already pinpointed the sound though; and without even stopping to consider his actions he charged into the boat shed.

"Merlin! Moriarty I swear to God I'm going to kill you! Merlin!"

"Arthur? Arthur, where are you, you prat?" came a reply, and Arthur span around to the source of the sound.

Which was a prerecorded message on a laptop, the words 'Getting warmer,' flashing across the screen.

Fuck it, Arthur thought, I need a drink.

* * *

Gwaine nudged Percival's shoulder. "So why do you reckon Pendragon's down here?"

"Maybe he's down here for the same reason you are, to get out of your mind drunk!"

"Nah, that can't be it, Pendragon is way too goody goody to be down here on a weekend break."

"Whatever it is, he looks upset about something, we should probably just leave him be," Percival said softly.

And so of course Gwaine immediately decided to put his empty glass down and strode over to the melancholy looking man, much to Percival's disapproval.

"Oi, Princess, what are you doing so far from the castle! I would have thought you would be more the stay in the fort sort!" Gwaine said loudly, sitting himself down next to Arthur, helping himself to the pint glass on the table.

"Gwaine, do you listen to anything I say?" Percival asked, sitting himself on the chair, although in his case it was more like two chairs, opposite the pair. "So Arthur, what are you doing down in Cornwall."

"I was looking for a friend," Arthur muttered, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Was it a girl friend?" Gwaine asked. "Did she dump you? If so I have the perfect liquid cure for-"

"No, it was stupid. I had so hoped I would find him here, I had thought I would be the one to save him."

"So it's a guy? Didn't know you swung that way Arthur but whatever floats your boat. Does Merlin know?"

The word 'Merlin' seemed to break a barrier in Arthur, because it appeared Arthur had gone from upset to angry.

"Wait a minute, is it Merlin? Are you dating Merlin?" Gwaine asked, surprised.

"Shut up Gwaine, before you get into something you really don't want to be a part of."

"Wait, so you are dating Merlin?" Percival injected, forgetting his irritation with Gwaine in favour for curiosity.

"Did you break his heart Pendragon because if so I swear I'll break your-"

"We're not dating Gwaine!" Arthur finally snapped, pulling the beer out of Gwaine's hands and taking a large gulp.

"Then what are you doing down here?" Percival asked.

"I-" Arthur faltered. "Merlin's brothers paid him a visit."

"So?"

"Well, one of them was supposed to be dead, for nearly three years now."

"Ah."

"And then to top it all off, Merlin's now been kidnapped by some bloody psychopath who is also supposed to be dead."

"I see. Now Arthur, don't hit me, but how much beer have you actually had?"

"Gwaine, I'm serious!" Arthur yelled, slapping the brunette hard round the back of the head.

"Ok, ok!" Gwaine yelled, hands raised in a sign of submission. "So, how are we saving him."

"What?"

"Oh come on Arthur, we both know if any messed up shit happened to us, Merlin would be there to help us out. It's clear Merlin wasn't here, but we can find him. Now, do you have any clue where Merlin might be?"

"Well, Sherlock said something about Mumbai."

"See! We've got a lead."

"We've got no way of getting to India though," Percival reminded the pair.

"Actually, you do," came a voice from behind them.

"Bloody hell, where the hell did you come from," yelled Gwaine.

"Oh please, it wasn't hard to deduce that a student like Arthur would come to drown out his sorrows at the largest tourist pub," replied Sherlock. "Rather boring actually, I would have left you here but John insisted that we needed you. I personally can't think of why though."

As the three other men stood up, Sherlock raised a hand to stop them. "I'm afraid there's only room for for one imbecile in the car, anymore and I wouldn't be able to think for all the stupid in the air."

Gwaine looked like he was about to protest, but Percival stopped him. Arthur still made no move to follow Sherlock.

"Why should I let you help us?"he asked the detective.

"Because I'm the one with the brains, Mycroft had the transport and John has the AK47. Because you are the one Merlin cares about and will want to see. And because I was wrong, and you were the one to help Merlin when I couldn't."

There was silence for a moment, then Arthur gave a small smile.

* * *

And that was how Gwaine and Percival were stood outside of the pub, very confused, as they watched Arthur get into a car that looked like it belonged to the mafia, promising to tell then when Merlin was safe. Then they were gone.

"Any clue what just happened?"

"Nope."

There was a pause, then-

"Shots?"

"Shots."

* * *

_"Wakey wakey pretty boy, it's nearly time to start the show. Now the fun can really begin."_

* * *

**I know what you're thinking. What! She's actually on time updating! :) Well I hope you enjoyed the latest update. Now I have good news and bad news, similar to last week.**

**Firstly, the bad news. I'm having to take a three week hiatus. Suffice to say over the next couple of weeks I have a dance exam, a LAMDA exam, ESB, shitloads of essays for my AS's (particularly German) and the bar mock trial. Not to mention the countless after school activities I do on top of that. I'm very sorry, but something had go give, and this won't be going towards UCAS or a job :( real life sucks **

**However the good news is that this story has hit 50 reviews! (Jumps around and does an Irish jig). As such, I've decided to create some one shots based on this series in the run up to the sequel, which I am still currently planning out, although I hope to have the first chapter up by New Year. As such, I am gonna be taking requests as to what you want to see, so feel free to express ideas in the form of a review :) **

**So, tell me what you want (what you really really want) and I'll see you all in three weeks! Sorry again! :(**

**P.S. Thank you to those who found a typo error due to both predictive text and sleepiness, the crew are going to **_Mumbai_**, not **_Dubai! _Sorry for the confusion!_  
_


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